


The Eye of the Storm

by fangirlSevera



Category: Re-Animator (1985)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-18
Updated: 2011-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-27 12:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlSevera/pseuds/fangirlSevera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment of calm between the Miskatonic Massacre and Peru. Dan angsts and Herbert is a manipulative bastard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Eye of the Storm

For a week after the "Miskatonic Massacre" Dan had fussed over Herbert's injuries, glad for the distraction. For Herbert, the burns and bruises were nothing compared to the re-agent withdrawal: The headaches, the sweating, the dry heaving. Dan called it "tough love." Herbert suspected a hitherto unknown sadistic streak in his roommate. And why not? There had been the fussing, but also the blame. Herbert calmly reminded him if anyone was at fault it was Dr. Hill. He had kidnapped and molested Meg, and it was _his_ re-animated corpses that had killed her. And when it came to her second death... Well, Dan knew full well who was responsible for _that_.

When Herbert was well enough to escape Dan's nagging, their relationship had reverted to much as it had been at the beginning. They barely spoke to or saw each other. This suited Herbert fine. He had a lot of new data to study.

He holed himself up in his room going through his notebooks. One good thing to be said for Hill, he had been a source for a plethora of new information. Unlike the others, he had retained his personality and (minimal as it was) intelligence. A result from the brain being separated from the body? Or along with his apparent powers of hypnosis, was it a sign that his control was a result of a differently (Herbert balked at using the word "superior") developed mind? Plus, the body was capable of movement and understanding without the brain! And just how did a severed head _talk_ without lungs?

Herbert laughed, overjoyed. All existing human anatomy books were worth nothing more than fuel for a bonfire. He eyed his own stack of textbooks and had the urge to rip out all the pages and make confetti. Still, not all of it was wrong, and he needed references for bio-chemistry. The re-agent was clearly imperfect. There had to be some way of stopping each re-animation from automatically lashing out in violence. Perhaps there was something Herbert could add to suppress the aggressive impulses. He would have to continue his experiments. But with the morgue under reconstruction and recent tightened security, Arkham was no longer the town to do them in.

Herbert took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, feeling the hateful pull of sleep.

He was woken from his light sleep an hour later by his bedroom door opening. Dan quietly shut the door behind him and sat heavily on the floor at the side of the bed.

Herbert put his glasses on and propped himself up to peer down at his roommate. "Dan?"

"Can't sleep." Well, obviously. He had a blanket around his shoulders and was curled up with his arms hugging his knees. "The bedroom... I can't... She..."

"There's always the couch," Herbert helpfully reminded him.

Dan shook his head. "We used to study there. This whole house, the memories..."

Herbert sighed and slid to the floor next to Dan. "We can leave. Go away," he suggested quietly.

"Go away where?" Dan asked, voice thick with dejection.

"Far away. Leave this all behind. Somewhere you can save lives, where we're needed, where I can continue my work." He could see Dan perking up at the promise of a new start, the idea of being useful.

"Like Doctors without Borders?"

"Yeah, something like that." Herbert patted his shoulder encouragingly. He slid back into his bed.

"Can I stay here?"

"On the floor?" Herbert asked, taking his glasses off again. He could see the blurred image of Dan shrug. "Whatever."

The next morning, Herbert awoke overheated and confined. In a moment of panicked flashback he thought of constricting intestines and lashed out. Dan landed on the floor with a pained and startled cry.

"Dan? What the fuck?"

Dan groaned and sat up. "What do _you_ mean, 'What the fuck?'"

"What were you doing in my bed?"

Dan frowned, confused. "I- uhm- Sorry. Don't remember. Must have gotten uncomfortable in the middle of the night."

Herbert was sure that Dan was innocent of any premeditated action, but it wasn't just about the discomfort of the floor. Dan had been _spooning_. Herbert wrinkled his nose in disgust that Dan had instinctively assumed Herbert had been one of his _women_.

"I'm making coffee," Herbert announced, stepping over his roommate.

Dan shuffled into the kitchen as the coffee maker finished dripping. "Did you mean it, what you said last night?" Dan asked, settling on a stool. A counter island separated the two of them.

"About what?"

"About leaving. Thanks," Dan added as Herbert handed him a mug of coffee. He took a sip, gagged, but swallowed with a grimace.

Herbert smirked. He always made it stronger than Dan liked, but Dan always seemed to forget. It amused Herbert to not remind him.

Dan got up and went for the sugar and creamer. Herbert took a gulp of his own, untreated coffee and finally answered. "Every word. There's nothing here for either of us."

Dan sat back down, doctoring his drink. "Where? When? How?"

"You let me worry about that. I'll start some research and inquiries today."

"I'll go with you."

Lately, Dan had lost all the glossy handsomeness he had when Herbert first met him. He was several days unshaven, dark-eyed, malnourished, and his hair was getting longer. It was not the image to present to people when trying to convince them they were well-educated and trained doctors (even if a couple years short of getting the MDs).

"Why don't you stay here and try to get some rest."

Dan fiddled with his mug. He stayed quiet, but his brow was knit in the way that meant he wanted to argue. Too often, Herbert felt he had to push Dan into action. Frankly, it was tiring and with his recent decrease of receptivity, Herbert found his patience nearing its end. But Dan had always responded better with softness.

So, he bit down his frustration and leaned across from Dan, their fingers almost touching on the counter top. "Let me take care of this. I don't want you to have any more stress. It's the least I can do."

Dan looked up, eyes wide. It was the closest Herbert had ever come to apologizing. It shocked Dan into acquiescence. He nodded. "Can I-"

"You can use my room," Herbert answered to the tentative question.

* * *

"Peru?" Dan parroted back a week later. All that time, Dan had relatively taken up residence in Herbert's room, the rest of the house apparently too "painful" for him to be in. Everything reminded him of Meg and depressed him. Herbert's space was a sanctuary from all that, and Herbert had allowed it if it kept Dan from moping too much.

He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, homework in his lap, when Herbert told him about the volunteer medical tour in South America.

He knelt in front of Dan, eyes wide with false sincerity as he used the easiest trick to get Dan to agree with him: Dan's desire to "do good." "That's what you want, right? New place, new start? I can't think of any place less like Massachusetts than Peru. The country's rife with civil conflict. Imagine the lives we could save just being there with our experience and supplies."

Not that Herbert was untouched by the idea himself, but stitching-up revolutionaries paled in comparison to the opportunity to continue his research beyond the reach of petty American laws. If he could perfect the re-agent, all that the fallen soldiers would need was a quick jab and they'd be on their feet again fighting for freedom and country in a matter of minutes.

Dan tore his eyes away from Herbert's and looked down at his textbook. "I don't know."

"You don't have to decide now. Sleep on it."

Dan nodded, keeping his eyes on the book.

A couple of days later, Herbert came back to find Dan on his bed again, but listening to his Walkman. When he saw Herbert, he grinned. It had been so long since he'd seen Dan do so, it took Herbert a minute to remember what the expression meant. Dan handed him the Book on Tape case: _Teach Yourself Spanish_.

He turned back to Dan. Dan looked different. He was well-rested for once, clean-shaven, reinvigorated. Herbert smiled back, sliding off Dan's headphones. "That's a 'yes,' then." He wasn't really asking.

"That's a yes."

* * *

In the days that Dan refused to sleep in his own room or the couch, he had stayed on Herbert's floor like some kind of indefinite slumber party. Once or twice Herbert was woken up by Dan squirming onto the mattress. He never had a problem with being physically close to Dan, but this unconscious need Dan had to cuddle was uncomfortably intimate and foreign. Most of the time, Herbert let it go. The fuss of kicking him off and bickering with Dan after just meant all the more sleep lost.

The night when they finalized their plans for Peru was different. When Herbert woke up Dan was clearly awake, too. Herbert was on is back and Dan was nearly completely on top of him, head against Herbert's chest.

"Dan?"

"This house is death."

Their position, Herbert realized then, was so Dan could listen to his heart. Dan turned his head and placed his lips against the cotton shirt, and pressed a kiss to the quickening beat he found there. Herbert thought he ought to say something about this, or move. But he didn't know what. His inexperience in these matters sent a spark of panic to his brain.

Dan lifted his head and propped himself up so he was leaning over Herbert, face to face. Dan's voice was soft, he had to strain to hear the words. "Dead. Everything. Everyone. Except you. You're all I've got."

Herbert laughed. It was the best thing Dan could ever had said! Poor Dan, always dependent on others to give him direction, and now he was was all Herbert's. It was all Herbert ever wanted. Dan would follow him to the ends of the Earth and the fringes of science. How gloriously reassuring.

It suddenly became easy to reach up and close the distance between them. Dan, desperate for human contact, grabbed at Herbert and pressed himself against the smaller man with such force, it took Herbert by surprise and unprepared. Herbert did not enjoy not being control. He pushed back, rough, trying to stop the smothering sensation. Dan moaned in response and Herbert felt a pleasant jolt shoot through him like the first time he injected re-agent in himself.

He grabbed Dan's head, pushing it away, gasping for air.

"Oh shit. Herbert, I'm sorry. I-"

Herbert told him to shut up and bit Dan's lower lip. Dan needed this. Herbert needed Dan. And Herbert knew Dan was sentimental enough that adding sex to the relationship would make it all the harder for Dan to ever leave.


End file.
